St. Paul’s Church in
Bergen, Jersey City NJ
March 20, 2016
The Sunday of the
Passion – Palm Sunday
Luke 19:28-40
Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 31:9-16
Philippians 2:5-11
Luke 22:39-23:56
Following the Crowd or Following Jesus
I
love that today’s service is a little complicated and confusing. I love it
because it helps us to really get, really experience, that Palm Sunday is the
most disorienting day of the church
year.
Today
is the start of a disorienting, confusing, even upsetting week that we call
“holy” – a week when we remember terrible, heartbreaking events:
On
Thursday, we’ll remember, retell, and reenact the story of the Last Supper when
Jesus said goodbye to his disciples, giving them the bread and wine to remember
him by, getting down on his hands and knees and washing the feet of his
disciples, teaching them in a way more powerful than words that this is how
much he loves us and commanding us to
love each other just as much.
Then,
at the end of the week, on the Friday we call “good,” we’ll once again walk the
streets of Jersey City, visiting places of pain and death, remembering the pain
and death of Jesus long ago and the suffering Jesus continues to endure in and
through our neighbors killed, injured, and frightened.
And
on Saturday we’ll find ourselves in that weird, uncomfortable in-between time, between
the death of Good Friday and the new life of Easter.
Holy
Saturday is like an eclipse when we can only see the outline of light that’s about
to once and for all conquer the darkness.
But,
today is Palm Sunday, the most disorienting day.
The
day began with so much promise, welcoming the king into his capital city with
waving palms and shouts of joy.
But
the mood has quickly soured and we’ve ended up at the cross with the king
hanging abandoned, humiliated, and quite dead.
The
most disorienting day - so disorienting that the Church can’t even settle on
one name. It’s Palm Sunday and it’s also the Sunday of the Passion.
The
most disorienting day.
Lately,
I’ve been reading a biography of one of my heroes: Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
Maybe
some of you know that name or know something about him.
He
was a German pastor and theologian who was born into a well-to-do family in
1906, meaning his childhood was marked by the First World War and he grew into
adulthood just before the rise of the Nazis.
Bonhoeffer
was brilliant and exceptionally well-educated, recognized at a young age as one
of the most brightest theologians in Germany, a land that had produced and took
pride in so many great religious thinkers.
At
the same time, thanks to his family’s wealth, Bonhoeffer was pampered and,
frankly, kind of spoiled, insulated from the profound suffering of many of his
countrymen in the years after the Great War and then at the start of the Great
Depression.
He
seems to not have been paying much attention when Hitler and his Nazi thugs cleverly
took advantage of people’s fears and bitterness, offering simplistic and
horrible messages of hatred, including, of course most especially the brutal
scapegoating of the Jews as the source of all of Germany’s problems.
It’s
a story that I’m sure is at least somewhat familiar to many of us.
This
history is certainly very familiar to me. I’ve studied it and I’ve taught it.
But,
reading this biography of Bonhoeffer, I’m struck by how fast it all
happened. It happened so fast that lots of people, including Bonhoeffer and
other intellectuals and other Christian leaders, were caught off guard,
disoriented.
Hitler
mutated so quickly - mutated from someone ridiculed by the elites as a buffoon who
they could easily manipulate and control into the absolute leader who just a
few days after gaining power began moving brutally against those he hated.
So
disorienting and so terrifying.
I’m
also struck by the crowds.
Seemingly
overnight, suddenly there were huge crowds at the Nazi rallies listening to
mindless speeches and saluting their hateful leader with their right arms
outstretched.
Tragically,
most of the supposedly Christian leaders of Germany, both Protestant and Catholic,
fell into line and followed right along with the crowds. They put on their red
Nazi armbands and oriented themselves toward Hitler, saluting their leader,
joining the huge crowds that would follow Hitler along the death road to genocide,
war, and national suicide.
Most Christian leaders followed the
crowd, but not quite all.
Although
he was stunned and disoriented that these hateful developments could be
happening in Germany, the land of poets and philosophers, Dietrich Bonhoeffer
along with a handful of other Christian leaders followed Jesus. They resisted
Nazi rule, risked their lives by refusing to follow the crowds.
Each
year on Palm Sunday – the Sunday of the Passion - we remember the fast-moving
developments in Jerusalem two thousand years ago – and we remember the crowds.
There’s
a crowd of people greeting Jesus as he entered the capital city, but they seem
to have the wrong idea. They think that Jesus is going to be a mighty warrior
like his ancestor David, a warrior-king who will defeat the Roman occupiers and
restore the independence of Israel.
The
crowd greets Jesus with waving palms and shouts of joy but at least some of
them must have had second thoughts and doubts almost immediately when they saw
their new king riding not a noble horse like any self-respecting monarch but a
lowly colt, a visual that was not likely to inspire or excite the crowd.
Events
then move quickly and soon enough there’s another crowd, probably a much larger
crowd - and I bet it included at least a few of the same people who had been
waving palms and shouting joyfully just a few hours earlier.
This
crowd rejects Jesus with the repeated shouts of “Crucify him!”
It
doesn’t take much imagination to see their faces, right?
We
can see their faces twisted and screwed into rage, rage fed by disappointment,
fear and despair, rage fed by the leaders, rage that feels so good at the time
but always leads down the road to death.
It’s
ironic, but on Palm Sunday, on this most disorienting day, we see the choice so
clearly.
Do
we follow the crowd?
Or,
do we follow Jesus?
If
we follow Jesus then we share the bread and wine with each other and with all
those hungry people out there.
If
we follow Jesus then we follow his example of loving service, getting on our
hands and knees and washing each other’s feet.
If
we follow Jesus then we reject the hate and the ugliness of the crowd, even
when, especially when, it’s going to
cost us.
If
we follow Jesus then we follow him to the Cross, follow him to all the many places
of violence, pain, and loss.
And,
if we follow Jesus it will cost us everything
– and it will gain us everything
because this is a journey on the road to Easter, the road to new life.
Unlike
almost everybody else, Dietrich Bonhoeffer resisted Hitler and the Nazis right
to the end.
Not
surprisingly, he was arrested and sent to a concentration camp where he was
executed near the end of the war.
In
a letter from prison he wrote, “The Cross is not the terrible end of a pious
happy life. Instead, it stands at the beginning of community with Jesus Christ.
Wherever Christ calls us, his call leads us to death.”
My
brothers and sisters, today we begin the disorienting journey of Holy Week.
Let’s
not follow the crowd.
Let’s
follow Jesus.
Let’s
follow Jesus to death on the cross.
Let’s
follow Jesus to the new life of Easter.
Amen.